Black and White Turns to Color
by turnitintolove
Summary: You're pretty sure you've found your soloist for regionals.  Because, really, you owe it to her to give her a bigger stage this year.  You hope that she'll see the apology in the offer come Monday morning.


My other title for this was going to be: **In Which Mr. Schuester Realizes He's a Douche**. The song at the end is _Hot Summer Night_ by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals.

* * *

><p>Its one of the last warm days of autumn. You can feel the chill starting to creep its way in as the nights get cooler. Pretty soon, the kids will be wearing sweaters and scarves. But today, you find yourself on the back deck belonging to of one of the wealthier teachers. Her husband invested in some fancy company or something, it didn't take long for you to lose interest. The invitation got you out of the house for what will probably be the last nice Saturday of the year. So you've found yourself outside, necking a bottle of some beer you've never heard of. At first it was to escape the boring conversations about the kids at school. Really? Even on the weekend, at a party, all they can talk about is the kids. Sometimes you feel like the adults are worse than your gossipy glee kids. But you stay out there because something catches your ear.<p>

You hear music. _Good_ music coming from the yard that backs up onto your host's. It's a voice you recognize, but one that still surprises you. She's accompanying herself on a guitar. She plays the guitar? You don't walk to the edge of the deck, afraid that she'll see you and stop. The last time you spoke to her things didn't end well. And she sounds so – _free_. You begin to wonder why she never sounded like that in the choir room, why she feels this need to hide behind her well constructed walls. You think she's too young to be that jaded. She's the only one of your kids that you don't really know. She holds you at arms length, making sure you stay away with a well placed snarky comment or two.

The music stops, the strumming of the guitar and her smoky voice are replaced by quiet words and bubbling laughter. You immediately recognize the peals of laugher that climb up the trellis to where you stand. She only ever laughs like that when they're together. You inch your way to the edge of the deck, still afraid that she'll see you, because you might be a little afraid of her. She may be seventeen and guarded, but she's smart as a whip and fierce. And you've seen the other kids have to hold her back.

"_Were you playing something new? I didn't recognize that song."_

"_Yeah. I was listening to some stuff I downloaded a while ago, but forgot that I had it. Did, did I sound ok?"_ You've never heard her sound insecure, so it takes you a little by surprise to see her look down at her feet.

"_Tana, you sounded amazing! Like, you should put it on youtube or that tumblr thing you keep trying to explain to me." _She lights up then, eyes sparkling at the compliment. _"I will totes record it for you too!"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Yeah." _The next move surprises you. You really thought you knew these kids. Brittany leans in and places a gentle kiss to Santana's lips. And she smiles, really smiles at her best friend. You don't think you've ever seen them look so happy. The walls start to make sense, so does her stint last spring with David. She's terrified.

Then you remember the look on Brittany's face as Santana walked out of the choir room at the start of the school year. Head held high. Brittany looked, broken is the wrong word, but she looked like a piece of her walked out of the room. Not only a piece, but just maybe the most important one.

"_I uh, I told my mom." _ They're sitting on the diving board that sticks out over the large swimming pool, legs hanging just above the water.

"_You told your mom what?"_

"_I told her, that, you know. I'm gay." _You knew that they were close. But you never thought that maybe they were struggling to figure out who they were. How they fit together. The two of them always seemed to know just where they fit in the world. And now, as you watch two of your students, you start to question how good of an educator and mentor you really are.

"_Are you ok?"_ You've also never heard Brittany string together so many sentences in a row that make sense. And again, you wonder how these two work. Everything that they seem to be going through has flown right under your radar.

"_Yeah, I mean, she wasn't super excited about it. But she said that she'd try to understand. You know? But we both agreed to not tell my dad. At least not yet."_ She's looking down again, but this time it's at her hands that are laying in Brittany's. _"When I told her that I loved you, she kinda laughed. Said that she should've figured it out years ago."_ You can't see the tears, but you can hear that her voice is thick with emotion, and you watch Brittany wipe the tears off her cheeks with the pads of her thumb.

"_I am so proud of you Santana. So proud. And I love you so, so much." _You're starting to rethink how you see the two of them. You suddenly understand why Santana is so protective of Brittany. She's protecting her heart, but you're not sure whether its her own, or Brittany's. _"Does this mean I can hold your hand and stuff at school? Because that would be all kinds of awesome!"_

"_Yeah Britt, I mean, if we can at least take it slow." _You can hear the trepidation in her voice. She's going to come out to the school. You may have missed their struggle to find themselves, but you're not blind to the cruelty of high school students. They managed to drive Kurt away, and Santana doesn't seem to be anywhere near as strong as she pretends to be.

"_I'll be there, with you. The whole time. You know that, right? I'm not going to run away just because people are mean."_ You're also feeling guilty, because Brittany is so much smarter than you've been giving her credit for. Here she is, making herself a solid foundation for another person. Something you're still trying to do. A seventeen year old is schooling you in one of the hardest lessons every adult has to learn.

"_I know Britt. I know. I'm still scared though."_

"_We can always hide out in the choir room if it gets to be too much."_

"_I'm not allowed in there. Remember? I got kicked out."_ The memory actually stings. Events from the last year and a half are making sense, and you realize that you've taken away her safe haven. It's your turn to look at your feet, to feel ashamed of yourself. Only you actually have a reason to feel ashamed. Here you are, watching two teenagers figure themselves out, and you've been no help whatsoever.

"_I'll hide you in my bag. No one will know."_ You hear Santana laugh, really laugh, and it's her turn to pull Brittany in for a kiss. One that makes you turn around and take a large swig from your beer, which is now warm. _"Now, I want you to sing me one of your new songs! And then I'm going to record it. You're going to be famous one day Santana. And then everyone is going to see why I love you."_

"_I don't care if anyone else loves me."_

They get off of the diving board, Brittany bouncing on the end and catching Santana before she falls into the pool. They both giggle as Santana picks up her guitar again and starts to strum it. Brittany sits on the grass and leans back to watch Santana sing to her.

_The mercury's rising_  
><em>And there ain't no disguising<em>  
><em>What you do do do do to me<em>

_It won't stop raining_  
><em>And there ain't no explaining why I feel,<em>  
><em>Feel, feel a warm summer breeze<em>

You're pretty sure you've found your soloist for regionals. Because, really, you owe it to her to give her a bigger stage this year. You hope that she'll see the apology in the offer come Monday morning.


End file.
